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2013.05.28 - Six Million Dollar Swindle
The night is still and calm. The harbour is oddly wave-free, the ships in their slips barely rocking. It's not all that dark - nowhere in the city that never sleeps really is. Too much light pollution casting a permanent penumbra unless in the shadows of skyscrapers. The ship is there, as Mister Hammer was told - a dark and small cargo boat, its deck littered with containers. Some blocks away, Torbin Rins is holding a handheld scanner and is standing outside a closed pawn shop. "The device was powered on at some point during the past several hours, but it's been moved. See the cluster of radiation here and here?" He points to the screen to show Gregor. "I think it's been loaded onto a ship." And Gregor crouches in the semi-darkness, peering down at the screen and back up toward the docks. "Onto a ship? How big d'you think it is, then? Do you have any idea which item it is, or...?" He's not costumed, not unless mottled grey-green clothing counts as a costume -- though in a city, to be fair, that sort of camouflage tends to work fairly well. "If we can just find it, we shouldn't have too much trouble getting it off, but I need line of sight. Or I at least need to know /exactly/ where it is." The meeting to pick up the device and deliver payment was set for 9PM. At 8:55PM, there's the sound of a diesel engine moving down the line of slips. At the end of the slip a large blue and black armored car built on an International chassis turns in, moving along the side of the dark colored cargo ship. Behind it are two black Hummers, following far enough back to allow the larger truck to maneuver. The Paxton truck draws to a stop on squeaky brakes, then reverses and backs toward the loading ramp for the cargo ship. The two Hummers split, one parking on each side of the armored car and just ahead of it. "I'm afraid that we're not gonna know what it is til we're ontop of it. It could be as big as a motorcycle or as small as a pence. But we have to get to it before that ship pulls out of the dock." Rins is dressed in his black, close-fitting combat-style clothing, though he's got a human face for the moment. "C'mon. Act natural. Look like a sailor." And then he's heading towards the waterfront. There's movement on the deck of the ship when the truck pulls up. The big man from the other day, Jacob, emerges onto the deck and moves towards the armored car. There's movement on the top deck of the ship and the momentary silhouette of rifles. Can't be too careful. Gregor can look like a sailor. A sailor in mottled grey. He has the right sort of weathered look, anyway. So as he ambles toward the waterfront, he pats himself down and pulls out a packet of cigarettes. Tucking one behind his ear, he fiddles out a lighter and puts the rest of the pack away. The international secret sign of 'I belong here, I'm just skiving off' is a cheap cigarette. The best props are the subtlest. He watches intently, and though his senses are nowhere near as keen as Rins's, he still has a very good idea of exactly what's around him. The sight of rifles is met with like. All four doors of the right-hand Hummer open, and security personnel clad in black with assault-style military weaponry emerge, taking up positions. Two more guards exit the lefthand Hummer, both from rear doors. The side door of the armored car swings open, and the first of the three-man crew on the truck joins the rest of the guards now posted around the meeting area. His grey over black uniform causes him to stand out, as does the shotgun he carries. Once the guards are all in place, and Jacob makes himself visible, the front passenger door of the left-hand Hummer swings open, and the Hammer Industries CEO himself steps out of it. He straightens his suit jacket and walks toward the ship and his contact. He seems on edge, and intentionally leaves the door to the vehicle open at the instructions of his driver. To compensate for his uneasiness, Justin puts forth an especially cocky attitude. "Jacob, my friend, good to see you again," he offers with a trademark false smile as he walks along the side of the armored car and toward the ship. Rins breaks off from Gregor as they approach the dock. He does /not/ look like a sailor - not in that getup, in any case. He sticks to the shadows and moves quickly behind stacks of crates and dumpsters. His voice pops over the radio to Gregor. "What do you call those big black trucks again? I call 'em military grade in the city. I call 'em suspicious." There's a pause, then, "Whatever we're looking for is definitely on the ship, but it didn't come here by sea. It got dropped here overland. So if the ship's pulling out, then who are these people?" For a man who seems to have very few facial expressions, Jacob nonetheless expresses surprise at Hammer's appearance. "Mister Hammer. Didn't expect you to be coming here in person. I ain't exactly the hospitable type. I'm here to just get the job done. Give me eyes on the money, and I give you the device." Gregor has a few good guesses, but he frowns as he sees the men gathering. "Hummers," he mutters. "Proper military grade, too, not SUVs with fancy plating on them. Someone's hired properly expensive security." He considers the question, though, and glances up at the ship: "Buyers? Buyers who're about to get rooked? This is pretty standard. Everyone'll be on edge. They'll be lucky if bullets don't start flying in the next few minutes. People get awfully paranoid in these situations." He narrows his eyes toward the ship: "You can't get any more of a read on the thing?" Justin gives a bit of a chuckle. "Absolutely, absolutely. A man of strictly business, I can respect that." Smacking the rear door of the armored car three times, Hammer calls to the Paxton guard with the shotgun. "C'mon, lets get this going. Show the man his money." The Paxton guard nods, and keys the radio he has clipped onto the shoulder bar of his uniform. There's a creak, then a clacking noise of metal on metal, and the large rear door of the armored car swings open. Hammer has to duck out of the way to keep from getting smacked by the heavy plated steel door, and he scowls at the guards. "Careful with that thing!" he yells, though the Paxton guard inside the truck doesn't acknowledge anything. There's six-million in cash, strapped into 60 bricks and shrink-wrapped federal reserve style, at the back of the truck. "I'm no expert in Earth-based watercraft, but that ship doesn't look like it's going to make a speedy escape. Maybe the ship's just a drop point. It is nice and dark out here. Perfect for nefarious deeds." He makes his way between the cargo containers and then he clambers up onto one and crouches low. "Gregor, don't get too close. These gents look like they have itchy trigger fingers. I can't see a damned thing from this angle." Jacob gives Justin a look, then opens his coat to show that he's going for a round, palm-sized device. He points it at the cash and hits a button. A green beam emits from it and scans the cash. The device chirrups and Jacob smiles a toothy smile. "Good enough." He touches a finger to his ear, "Bring it out." A tall, broad-shouldered woman with lip piercing a shock of bleach blonde hair hidden beneath a black cap emerges from the hold, carrying the same black case that Justin saw the other day. She's also got a duffel over her shoulder. The duffel gets dropped first. "Two thousand tracker dots," she says in Russian-accented English. "And the scalpel." She holds up the case. "Gregor, whatever just moved, that's it. I traced the movement just now," comes Rins' voice over the radio. "Probably so. Might do to figure out who owns it," Gregor mutters, "though they might just have set things up here to look like it's theirs. And don't worry. I'm not getting any closer." He watched intently, moving to try and get a good view of the trucks. If he could figure out which one it was going to get loaded into... "I can't get it right now. Not with all those guns. It'll cause too much attention. I'd rather at least separate out the sellers from the buyers." Both of the Paxton guards, and one of the HI security personnel both flinch when Jacob goes for the scanner. No one draws or fires, but the Paxton guard inside the truck snaps the retainer off his holster. Justin looks from Jacob to the guards and the cash, then back again. That scanner is impressive by itself. Shifting his weight nervously, he nods and forces a return smile to Jacob. "Neat little gizmo you've got there," he comments, pointing toward the scanner. As the case and the duffel full of tracking dots is brought down the ramp, Hammer's gaze fixes on it. "Now, I don't have a cool little tech gadget to tell me if this is the real deal like you promised. Can you run a demonstration to prove it's what I'm paying for?" "Can you see a plate number? Something we can track? If these are buyers, maybe we can track them back to their home base." Rins mutters a curse in his native tongue. "But wherever it's going, it's going to be more secure than this." He starts to move, but then one of the men with guns happens to look his way. He hunkers back down again. Jacob looks like he isn't going to concede, but then he nods once to the woman. She sets the case on top of a cargo container and reveals the same orb that Justin saw in his office. "The dots are in the bag, Mister Hammer. Choose your target." It'll take a moment for Gregor to find his moment. He stands behind several huge shipping crates and pulls out a small pair of binoculars, peering through them to see if he can pick up the crates. "Can you. You know," he mutters, "teleport us out, like? If I snag that crystal ball or whatever it is, they'll have a dead line of sight to me. But if you can teleport us out, I can protect myself from being shot for a /bit/. Not forever." "You," Justin points at the Paxton guard with the shotgun. "Take one of the dots, put in on that pylon over there." He waves his finger toward a yellow post cemented into the slip. There's a hesitation from the guard, as if he's not quite sure what to do, since he's supposed to be standing guard over his truck and crew mates. When the man doesn't move right away, Hammer reaches toward the shotgun, wrenching it out of the guard's hands. "Dot, pylon," he snaps at the stunned guard who then moves to do as he's told. A moment later, there's a tracking dot on the yellow post and the guard has had his shotgun returned to him. "Oh no, no no," says Rins rather emphatically over the radio. "I am /not/ teleporting an unstable prototype device onto my ship. The teleport itself could vaporize us, or the transport itself could destabilize the power source and blow us to bits when we rematerialize. In fact, we'd be lucky if there were bits. Bad plan. We need a different plan." Rins shifts his position, but is forced to duck out of sight again. The woman who brought out the case powers up the Scalpel. She brings up the map and finds the pylon. There's a surge in power and...poof, just like an eraser, the pylon is no longer there. "Whoah whoah..." Rins looks down at his scanner. "Shit. That's the word, right? Shit? When something bad...? Listen, I just got some massive power spikes. That thing is gushing bortan radiation." "All right, you're going to have to start explaining what bortan radiation is. Is it when something just completely goes 'poof' and doesn't even... /disintegrate/, it just sodding /vanished/. If I go and grab that thing, am I going to get sterilized?" He's still there waiting, clenching and unclenching his hand. But he is able to get the license plate numbers at last, and he reads them out to Rins. "Can you check those? See who we're dealing with?" Justin claps his hands together as the pylon simply vanishes. "Bingo! I think we have ourselves a deal," he offers, looking back toward the Paxton guard, who's eyes are about as large as dinner plates. "Offload the cash, and get the device loaded. I want to be on the road A-S-A-P," Hammer orders, stepping back and away from the armored car though he makes sure he can see the entire exchange. The Paxton guard from inside the truck jumps down from the deck, and pulls a two-wheeled dolly down from the vehicle. He starts re-stacking the shrink-wrapped bricks on the dolly. As soon as the cash is neatly stacked on the cart, he wheels it over to the blond woman. The cart is lowered, and with a smooth motion of his boot, removed from under the neat stack of wrapped bills. "Let me put it this way. If it was spritzing bortan radiation and not gushing? I would still suggest evacuating a six-block radius around that thing. It's used in some teleporters and there've been tests with weaponizing it. It's basically a teleport with no end destination. But when you do that, it builds up bortan radiation with each use. That thing is a bomb waiting to blow." Rins tears his eyes away from the spiking radiation readings to plug in the plates. "Hammer Industries and Paxton security. That mean anything to you?" In the meantime, the woman packs up the device again and secures it in its case. Jacob is off to one side, murmuring into a radio. Once the cash is offloaded, he walks back over. "Mister Corvis is glad you're pleased, Mister Hammer." He nods to the woman, who offers the case out to Justin. "Hammer Industries. Yeah, I know them. Never dealt with 'em myself, but a mate of mine in the CIA has stories. They're a tech company -- primarily a weapons manufacturer, a military contractor. They get a lot of lowest bids, but it's best not to be an early adopter of their tech. Seems their quality assurance is... questionable. They're not evil, they're just... military contractors." Gregor shifts uncomfortably: "So. Really bad to teleport a bad teleporter. If Hammer's buying this... he's a military contractor, he's going to try to replicate this. This isn't organised crime trying to take people out. He wants to go into manufacturing. If we can convince him it's a bad idea..." Hammer takes a step forward and takes the case. The Paxton guard with the dolly takes the duffel bag, and both men walk back over to the armored car. Justin puts the case on the back deck, then turns back toward Jacob and the others while the guard loads the dolly and duffel bag. "Please let Mister Corvis know that I look forward to doing business with him again," he says with wide smile. The rear door of the Paxton truck shuts with a heavy, metal clunk, and the guard with the shotgun rounds the vehicle to board from the side door. "Until next time," Justin says to Jacob and his associates, then turns and heads back toward the Hummer he came in on. The security personnel start to move back toward their respective vehicles, and the gathering seems to be breaking up. "Yeah? What's the best way to do that? Take him out for a beer? Seems we have to, as we've lost our window to snatch it." Rins keeps low, but in a spot where he can observe the Hammer caravan. The gathering is indeed breaking up. No sooner is the money onboard than the ship is pulling away from the dock. Jacob nods once to the departing Hammer as the ship slides off through the still water. "All right. Don't suppose you could give all of their cars and their guns trouble at the same time? I'm open to bright ideas as to how we can warn this guy." "I think talking to him's probably the most sensible way to go. And... sod, all right, I guess I can. It's a bit delicate, but..." It does take a moment. Gregor reaches out and stares, trying to identify the guns and the workings inside them. He /can/ jam them. He can see the cars; he can telekinetically disconnect the batteries. Nothing that will permanently damage anything, but it's enough that it'll take them a few minutes to get things started. "Right. Done," Gregor grunts. "And now I'm going to do something really bloody stupid. Wish me luck." He steps out then, hands in the air, and calls out: "Oi! Hammermen! Moment of your time, please! I'm -- " Well, he's not unarmed. "Not going to shoot you, so if you'd do me the same courtesy." Justin gets back into the Hummer and shuts the door. As soon as he's in the trucks start rolling. Justin's Hummer heads out first, then the Paxton truck, with the second Hummer bringing up the rear. The convoy starts to roll down the slip when all three grind to a halt without warning. Justin is visible inside the first Hummer, looking to his driver with obvious confusion. As soon as Gregor appears, the two guards from the lead vehicle jump out of the rear doors, guns trained on the strange man. "Stop where you are!" one of them shouts, "Keep your hands where we can see them." "No, Gregor. Gregor...no, don't --" Too late. Rins mutters a curse and clambers up onto another cargo container to get a bird's eyes view. He tugs his weapon out of its holster and tries to get the lay of the land. He trains it on the men out in front, the first ones to approach Gregor. His voice comes in over the radio. "So what's your plan now, genius? Flirt?" "Works oftener than you might think," Gregor mutters with a little smirk. Ah. Guns he hasn't jammed. But those two only take a moment of concentration, which Gregor uses to waggle his hands peacefully in the air. "I'd like to speak to your boss. Your leader. Whoever's in charge of this gig. You've bought something you really, really don't want." Inside the first Hummer Justin continues to pester his driver as to why they're not moving. Even without being able to hear what's being said, the translation is pretty clear. 'Why aren't we moving? Get us moving again!' The driver just shakes his head as he continues to try and start the truck's engine. Meanwhile, three of the four guards from the rear Hummer have gotten out of their vehicle, and proceed to cover the areas to the side and rear of the convoy. The Paxton crew stays concealed within the armored car. The security guard closest to Gregor takes another step forward, rifle still trained on the man. "Move along! Now!" The second guard carefully keys a radio and relays what Gregor wants- to talk to Hammer himself. Inside the Hummer, the driver shakes his head, advising the hot-headed CEO not to get out of the truck. Rins watches the situation with tightly pursed lips. "Keep stalling them. I have an idea." He notes the radio, then pulls out a device and starts scanning. Lucky for him, TwenCen frequencies aren't guarded against his level of tech. It takes a few tries, but then he manages to patch in to Justin's radio. "Listen to the man with the big ears. Corvis sold you a very volatile piece of technology. It's leaking alien radiation. That's how we were able to find you." "Listen. I understand. In business, sometimes you have to speculate in order to profit. That's business. That's life. But this particular speculation is /beyond/ dangerous. You've been conned, mate. Your boss has been conned, and if he tries using that thing or, God forbid, tries to take it apart, it could cause massive amounts of damage." Gregor's hands are still up, eyes focused, face... well, as honest as he can make it. The hacked radio transmission causes a whole new set of exchanges inside the Hummer. Again the driver tells Hammer to stay put, but this time he loses the battle. The CEO opens the door of the large SUV and steps out. Moving around the door he looks around the area, as if looking for someone else, then focuses on Gregor. "You've got thirty seconds, start talking," he snaps quickly at the man standing on the wrong side of the guard's guns. His point in accented with a point of his left hand, his right on his hip. Rins is well-hidden in the shadows. He's got himself tapped in to all of their radio frequencies and has his weapon trained on Justin. "I've got you covered, Gregor. I've got the man in the suit painted. If you feel like they're gonna shoot, let me know. Go ahead and tell him what I told you about how the thing works." "Mister Hammer?" Gregor reads the paper. He can recognize the face. Not that Justin Hammer is superbly recognizable by his face, but no one dresses like that except for people trying to look like him. "Pleasure to meet you. That thing you bought is appallingly dangerous. Wherever they said they got it from, they were lying through their teeth. I'm guessing you thought it was some kind of alien tech? Possibly from the future? Except it's experimental. A prototype. And the radiation that thing gives off -- bortan radiation, but it's giving it off in massive bursts. It's dangerous to its users and it's highly, /highly/ unstable. Look: I'm assuming you want to adapt this thing for military use, but it's not just damaged goods: it's a leaky nuke a thousand years more advanced than any of today's technology." Hammer shifts his weight and crosses his arms over his chest as Gregor talks. He studies the man who's gutsy enough to have confronted his convoy. "What sort of evidence do you have to back up your claims?" he asks in a short tone. "How do I know that you're not just someone out to steal something I just legally purchaced?" The guards that are with him keep their weapons trained, but don't make any hostile moves. They have no idea that their guns have been rendered useless. "I wouldn't call a dark dockside cash transaction with likely criminals a 'legal' purchase," murmurs Rins over Gregor's earpiece. "I'm not sure how to prove it to them, short of showing them my scans. And they might not believe that since I don't know if there's even any human devices that can detect this radiation." He keeps up his vigil, weapon pointed squarely at Justin's chest. "'Legal' purchases don't happen in the dead of night with rifles pointed at each other," Gregor points out. "At best it's questionably legal. You know what you have is alien tech. What it does is use a great deal of energy to teleport an object to a null destination. It is, by its very nature, broken. As a happy side-effect, it obliterates what it uses, but it's building up radiation. It's overheating. You know it's dangerous. I can get you readouts of the radiation that thing's giving off. If you don't believe me? Consider that I am willing to stand in front of every single one of your armed guards and tell you this. I am more afraid of that thing -- " He jabs a finger toward the Hummer carrying the object. "Than I am of you or any of these men and their guns. What do you suggest? What would satisfy you? Cracking that thing open's likely to cause an explosion that would wipe out half your building and everyone in it and cause an environmental cleanup that would make the Gulf look like a kid pissing in a swimming pool. Even if you aren't in the room for that, do you want to be held liable?" "So what you're saying," Justin says in an annoyed tone, "is that I just paid six-million for a piece of junk that's going to level half of my R&D facility?" He lets out a snorted breath and shakes his head. He's been conned, and he knows it. Either Corvis conned him, and this guy's on the level, or this guy is in league with Corvis, looking to get the tech back AND keep the money. Either way, this deal is a lose-lose situation. A far cry from what he had thought just two days ago. "If you've got proof, show it. Otherwise, I'm going to be forced to think that you're the one trying to swindle me." "Flirting with logic. I like it. Now just show a little skin and maybe it'll seal the deal," drawls Rins over the radio to Gregor. "Listen, just...put me on speaker, will you?" And presuming his partner complies, the alien's voice joins the conversation. "This is a friendly warning, Mister Hammer. We're not going to stop you from leaving, but whatever happens after that, the blood'll be on your hands. Now, we can safely destroy the tech, right in front of your eyes. No funny business. Poof. Safe implosion. Or, you can wait for it to explode and do what my friend here so vividly described. If you think you're going to learn something from it before it explodes? I hate to tell you, but this tech is light years out of your league. In a thousand years, it'll be advanced tech that only a handful of people can understand. Hell, I don't understand it. I just know it's dangerous. It might as well be made of magic pixie dust. It has the same potential to be analyzed and replicated." Gregor does comply, of course. He pulls out his earpiece and taps the little button to broadcast more loudly and nods to Hammer: "That'll be my partner," he explains. "Alien cop from the future. You know, nothing surprises me anymore." Again Hammer looks around, trying to spot the second person that has to be around somewhere. "If you're gonna join the conversation the least you can do is come down here and do it face to face!" he yells at the darkened area in general. He's angry now, knowing he's been played for an idiot. "I'll make you a deal. If this thing is as bad as you say it is, you trade me something I can use, and I'll turn it over so you can destroy it. Sound fair?" Justin wants something for his cash, which he's fairly certain he's not getting back at this point. "Sorry, but I'm sort of busy covering my partner so he doesn't get shot in the head by your twitchy guards," says Rins over Gregor's earpiece. "Best I can do is give you a scanner that is attuned to the kind of signatures future tech gives off. It'll also detect the kind of radiation that that little toy of yours is giving off. Corvis is selling this tech all over the place, and all of it is either a prototype and unstable, plain skunked, or it's impossible to replicate and thus useless for your purposes. But there's some other future tech out there, stuff you might actually be able to reverse engineer if you're clever." What was that about polluting the timeline? Well, there's been some developments on that he hasn't had time to fill Gregor in on. "You've invested a lot in this, I'm betting," Gregor continues with a slight nod. "Corvis is selling his wares all over the place, but there's plenty of stuff out there he's NOT selling that isn't tainted like this. Of course, there's always getting revenge on him." He smiles sweetly, rocking back and forth on his heels and the balls of his feet. "He's burned you on this deal, mate, but the fight's not over. You made contact with one of his lieutenants. If you can give us details -- where, who, when, all that -- we might be able to track him down. And if he still has your money when we do, you're welcome to it." The CEO glares toward Gregor, and by proxy, the disembodied voice. "That's all great and good, but do you have anything I can use /right now/? If you haven't noticed, I'm out a pretty good chunk of change on what you're saying is absolute crap! I either want my money back, or something of some value." His words are accented by a lot of hand motions, as if his tone wasn't abrasive enough. When Gregor mentions revenge, he stops, his expression leveling out slightly. "I've made it clear I'm willing to talk business with this Mr. Corvis and his agents again," Justin comments, his voice a lot cooler now. "And if I get some assurance that you're not trying to pull the wool over my eyes too, maybe we can work together." "I've got a job to do, Mister Hammer. My job is to destroy the tech Corvis is selling, because it's dangerous. That's it. I don't care about tech that got here another way. I don't care about money or business or...honestly, I don't even know why a walled street is so important to this world's economy. I just don't want people disintegrating from faulty tech." Rins makes an exhasperated sound when Justin starts going off. "The scanner itself is future tech. I don't know how smart your lab rats are, but I promise you /it/ won't explode if you open up and explore its guts. You're a military contractor, right? Well, this thing can detect minute energy signatures over great distances." "Handy for picking out things like bombs, ordnance, radiation at long distances. Not quite as flashy as the -- the /thing/ you've got back there, but a lot less explodey." And who knows? Maybe he can use its technology in missiles to make them more accurate. Smarter. Less full of collateral damage. "I think we can come to an arrangement, Mr. Hammer. It looks like there's something we both want." Justin lets out a sigh, looking toward the ground and putting his hands on his hips as he thinks this over. "Fine. I'll take the scanner, and if Corvis contacts me again, I'll let you know about it. And you can have the Scalpel. We have a deal?" There's still an undertone of hostility in his words, though he isn't yelling any longer. "Send off one of your trucks. I don't like being this outnumbered. Then I'll come out, give you the scanner and destroy the...Scalpel," there's a wry note to Rins' voice, "...right in front of your eyes." "Nice name," Gregor muttered. And there's something about the Manchester accent that makes /everything/ sound a bit sardonic. He extends his hand to shake Hammer's. Hammer glares at the darkness. "No can do," he says to whoever that is out there. "Trucks are all dead. Besides, I don't know you from Adam, so I ain't losing my advantage. You want it, come out here." Looking back to Gregor he grudgingly takes a step toward the man and takes his hand. He shakes, sealing the deal. "I swear, if you screw me over, there /will/ be hell to pay." "Keep them in their truck, then," says Rins. He pauses to shift into his orange, barb-y self. Might as well. Gregor already outed him as an alien. (Good job by the way.) Besides, he might need his barbed tail if things get ugly. It's also a bit more proof that they're telling the truth. He's certainly no garden variety human. He clambers down from the shadows and appears from the left, weapon in hand. He gives Gregor a /look/ as he emerges. "That was really reckless, man. What the hell?" He steps up beside the other - close enough to grab for teleport. He fishes a smartphone-sized device out of his pocket. He makes a few changes. "I've set it to English. It's fairly intuitive, at least for anyone who knows anything about scanners." He offers it out for Justin to have a look. It's got the same sort of graphic quality as the Scalpel. Hey, it added verisimilitude. Answered the 'how do you know all this' question. Gregor smiles sweetly at Rins: "Worked, though, didn't it?" Turning back to Hammer, he shakes his hand warmly and lets it go. "Not our plan. You got bilked by the con artist we're after. Whatever else, we're aligned in /that/." The guards instantly train on the alien as he finally makes himself visible. Justin waves his hand downward, looking to the closest guard. "Easy, easy," he tells him. "Just back off for a second. Give us some space, will ya?" The guard lowers his weapon slightly, and radios to the others. The three guards from the rear Hummer retreat back to their truck. When Rin approaches, Hammer blinks. Yeah, he knew the guy was an alien, but that still doesn't take the shock out of it. He takes the scanner from Rins and looks it over, which gives him an excuse to look away. Justin glances to Gregor and offers a nod. "Yeah, guess you're right on that. The Scalpel is in the Paxton truck." He motions back toward the armored car. For a guy with an alien face, his eyes are rather human. Rins doesn't shun eye contact with either Justin or the guards he passes. He unhooks something from his belt as he approaches the car. When the doors are opened, he goes for the case and unclips it. He pulls out another scanner, scans it (for the record) and attaches a small star-shaped device to the base of it. "He rocks back. "Watch the show. Three, two, one." He hits another button on his belt. The Six Million Dollar Scalpel appears to turn to stone, then crumbles into a fine black ash. As he does this, the scanner in Justin's hand spikes on a few of the energy readings, then drops off entirely. Gregor watches, though he's seen this show before. He reaches out to clap Justin on the shoulder: "Sorry, mate. But the scanner'll be worth it. Here," he adds, reaching into his coat to pull out a business card. "You can get in touch with us at those contact numbers and the email. Are we square, then? For the moment?" Justin follows Rins to the back of the armored car. He watches the destruction of the device, and notes the reading from the scanner he was given. He nods approvingly, the thing seems to work. When he feels a hand on his shoulder he turns quickly to face Gregor. Taking the card he returns a nod. "We're square," he replies. "I'll call you as soon as I hear from Corvis again." "Pleasure doing business with you," says Rins as he turns and walks away from the armoured car. He spares a glance for Justin, then nods towards Gregor. C'mon. The scanner is probably actually worth the 6 million Justin paid. It was a steal for the Scalpel, a reasonable price for the device he has in his hand. Not so bad, right? Category:Log